generally-scheming // armitage hux
“You should be so lucky.” Hux bristled, his pitch creeping higher. The foreign words unsettled him. There was little he hated more than not knowing things. He turned to a communications officer seated at a nearby console, his voice crisp as an icicle. “What language is that? What does it mean?”
“Mando’a, sir.” The officer’s mouth twitched. Was that a laugh he was stifling?
“Look at me when I am talking to you, officer.” The officer’s amusement was highly inappropriate. “What did she say?”
“She said…” The comms officer’s face went pale as he met Hux’s gaze. Looking as if he were in real, physical pain, he squeaked out, “ ‘Cheers, sweetheart.’ ” He cleared his throat. “Sir.”
Silence descended on the bridge. These officers were well-trained; they knew better than to laugh audibly. But Hux could feel the held breaths, the shoulders shaking with the struggle to contain their amusement (his shame). His jaw clenched. He would maintain professionalism, even if these classless rebels did not. “Thank you, Officer Norton,” he said quietly. He pivoted to address the entire bridge, the very picture of control until he opened his mouth.
“Divert power from deflector shields to boosters! GET them IN RANGE and FIRE TURBOLASERS! NOW !!” Officers scrambled around him. Face burning, he lowered his voice to a stiff sneer as he spoke into the comms. “I hope you like it hot, Mandalorian. Shame that the rest of your planet didn’t.”
.
A crew member indicated that the larger vessel was shifting power to thrusters, and she nodded without much concern. These ex-Imperials may have more firepower, but Sabine knew this ship, knew its people. The Rebels were faster and knew the less-traveled hyperspace lanes like home. They had to if they wanted to survive.
At the response on the com, Sabine smirked. So, it was that easy. Though the comment should have stung, the Mandalorian shrugged it off for now. This wasn’t the first time someone had said such things to them in the heat of battle. And it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Were it another bound by Creed, they might have panicked, have spiraled into anxiety or fear or guilt-- but to this hut’uun, all they heard were words, devoid of knowledge or feeling.
“Oh, low blow, general. You kiss your superiors with that mouth?”
She asked, but had little doubt about it. From what they heard, some Imps were willing to do just about anything for a promotion. It wasn’t her business, but it was amusing. They gave their attention back to the focus at hand: the jump to New Republic space just a few parsecs away was calculated, and the only thing left was to give the command.
“Oh, and translator? Why don’t you tell the general-- te’habi bevik gar’shebs! I’m sure you’d all be better for it!”
As she gave the signal for the jump, they smiled lightly under their palm. Secretly, they hoped to run into him again-- this was the most fun she’d had all week.
l closed starter l @versios
It had been a few weeks since Sabine talked with the commander, and they were starting to grow anxious. It had taken longer than usual to hear news lately (the ship’s subspace transceiver had been fidgety, especially in the Outer Rim), but she had finally found out about the tragedy at Hosk Station. They had frequented it during their travels and couldn’t imagine the toll it took, the millions of lives lost.They felt the need to help in whatever way the Rebellion would have her, and Commander Versio was one of the leaders she felt most connected with. Of course, they were not very communicative with anyone anymore, but this woman seemed to share similar experiences with the Empire and Rebellion as themself. It seemed that she had an outlook very similar to her own, and Sabine really did appreciate that.
It was a quick message they sent, just a little holo-recording taken while in mid-flight. A short update about the course of events over the last few rotations, as well as a request near the end of the transmission.
“...Commander, if there is any way to aid the Rebellion at this time, I will be prepared to answer at your call.”
@cptfulcrum // Alexsandr Kallus
As much as this would have shocked his former self, Kallus genuinely cared about each of the Spectres. He knew his friendship with Zeb helped with that. He cared about the Lasat, so of course he would care for Zeb’s family. It wasn’t all that however. They hadn’t treated him horribly after his defection, something that he still thought he deserved. They were dedicated rebels, accomplished strategists, caring people. He was lucky to have friends like them, especially now, when everything felt like it was falling apart. He knew that Sabine could relate to that. They all could now.
He was being protective. It wasn’t necessary, not with Sabine. They cared for Zeb as much as he did if not more. It was an interesting relationship, theirs was. Maybe it was because he’s never had anything like that before. “ I’m sorry. “ he expels a breath, focusing in on the way they chipped the dirt off of their armor. “ I know you mean well. Zeb is lucky to have such caring friends. I just…. “ he trailed off, running a hand through his beard. Having friends was sometimes much harder than not having them. “ We were happy on Lira San. “ he admitted, quieter than before. “ We were happy. “ It felt like so long ago, before they had heard of Ezra’s death and before he had decided to leave. It felt like a long time ago, but it hadn’t been a great length of time.
“ I just want him to continue to be happy. “ Kallus confided, sucking in another breath. It was only tactful to ignore the tears that Sabine was letting out, just as she was ignoring the ones threatening to fall from his eyes. He hadn’t truly cried in a long time. He started towards his back, quietly. He thought about Sabine’s words. They were both Imperial defectors, though she was much better than he. It took him almost two decades to figure out what they had before they even graduated the Academy. “ I wouldn’t go comparing yourself to the likes of me. “ he said, hoping his tone sounded as light as he wanted it to. His eyes met theirs and he nodded. That was one thing they could agree on at least. “ Would it be quite childish of me to suggest a race? “ he grinned, already mounting his speeder, hoping that maybe they could ignore the despair they both felt for just a bit.
As he rode through the desert his hair whipped around him. He should have tied it up before starting this journey. It had grown much longer. The Empire would never have stood for that. It made him grin to himself at the thought. The more he changed, the more he rebelled against what the Empire instilled in him, the more he felt like he was finally becoming who he meant to be.
“It would only be childish if you lost!” Sabine shouted as they mounted the speeder bike, already racing over the terrain with a wide smile. The wind did nothing for the silent tears hidden beneath her visor. Fuck. She hated crying, but found herself doing it so much lately...Instead, they redirected attention to the passing foliage, the colors that blended and swirled around her.
Kallus was no stranger to a speeder, it was obvious, but she was sure she had more practical experience. He might have studied at the Academy, but Sabine had been riding since they were a child, since the occupation of the Empire on Mandalore. How he saw in that nest of hair, they couldn’t imagine, but somehow he actually caught an edge on her, turned a corner with more agility and speed than they thought possible.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
They took a risk, cutting through the underbrush, hoping it would help close the gap, but--
“Second place? Dank farrik, Kallus. I’ve got to hand it to you, you know your way around a speeder bike, old man.” They taunted with a sly upturn of the lip. “C’mon, first round’s on me.”
pilotheart // Zay Versio
Well, that was smooth, uh? Zay wasn’t good at talking. Especially when she was worried, and her friend’s attitude was worrying her. It wasn’t a good new at all. Arriving in that time, Zay had decided she wasn’t going to get too attached to anyone - she couldn’t afford it when a relationship was based on a lie, right? But there she was. She had been lucky that Jyn understood it. She wasn’t sure that Sabine would, once the truth would go out. If it ever did. “No.” Zay shook her head. “You’re not that straightforward.” Not that Zay didn’t like it. Even if Sabine was drunk, or high, or whatever - and probably didn’t think it.
“Oh,” was all they could find to say, a hollow ringing making its way through her ears. Was that real? Or the roar of a crowd and the hum of instrumentalists flickering in and out of her periphery? But try as they might, the Mandalorian couldn’t focus on that noise because they couldn’t take their eyes off of her friend. They listened with intent, face falling a little at Zay’s response. I must be a kriffing loser when I’m sober, huh?
“W-well, why not? I must be di’kutla for never having the gett’se to ask you on a proper date.”
The music swelled up to a crescendo, filling her with a new sense of bravado. If they didn’t ask now, would they ever? Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach, but instead of pushing it away, they let it carry her forward, closer to the friend they found so enthralling.
“Zay Farren, may I have this dance?”
@cptfulcrum // Alexsandr Kallus
Everyone was struggling with Ezra’s untimely death. So many unanswered questions, so much pain. He knew that Zeb felt it, which is another reason why Kallus had been keeping his distance from Lira San as of late. He wanted to allow his friend to grieve in the way he saw fit. That’s what he was telling himself at least. Watching Zeb and Hera grieve Ezra once was excruciating. He didn’t think he could do it again, not when he was still reeling from getting the kid ( man really ) back and losing him again. Allowing himself to work again, for the New Republic, had given him purpose. When he had heard from Zeb that Sabine hadn’t been in contact for a while, he knew that he had to check in on her.
Tracking a Mandalorian was no easy task, even for ex-ISB. Whispers of the warrior in the painted armor had finally lead him someplace. He had landed his ship a few clicks north and had been on a speeder. When he saw the lone speeder that he hoped belong to them, he slowed down before getting off of the bike. He left it idling, not sure if Sabine even wanted to see him. He wouldn’t be particularly surprised if they preferred their alone time right now. But he had to try, at the very least.
He approached slowly, a hand on his blaster, just in case it was not their friend that he found, but a potential foe instead. One could never be too careful, especially when he had been attempting to track Grand Admiral Thrawn. “ Sabine ?? “ he called, finally passing the clearing and seeing them. “ It’s Kallus. Garazeb was…. Well, we were worried. “ he admitted, “ I told him I’d come and check up on you. “
Sabine looked up at the sound of a speeder bike in the distance, all mechanical hum and rattle. They froze, hoping it was just another passerby and not anyone she knew. Working quickly, they stowed tools in exchange for a blaster, aiming it at the thicket before them.
Something that sounded like her name carried across the wind, and they planted their feet sternly, breathing deepening in preparation for battle.
Who had the will to track her down all the way to this remote planet on the edges of the Outer Rim? What did they want with her? The stranger’s words were muffled and distorted from crossing through wind and distance, though she could see the shape of their body winding towards her in the foliage. Her heart jumped to their throat. After all this time fighting, after the wars she was raised in, still they felt a twinge of anxiety at the prospect of confrontation. Stalks of foreign plants rustled with movement, and a figure emerged into the clearing with a hand on their gun. Sabine stood, still as a stone.
Kallus?
Was it really him, that old Imperial-turned-Rebel, after all? Last she had heard, he was on Lira San, helping to rebuild the Lasat species on their homeworld, (and spending a lot of time with Zeb, too). Could it be him, this man whose story mirrored their own in too many ways? Yet, here he stood in front of her, eyes wide as their own.
“Dank farrik,” they finally murmured. They lowered their blaster, but the tension did not leave the muscles in her arm (or in the air between the two figures).
“Kallus. If I’m being honest, you are the last person I expected to see here. Wh-” they holstered their gun. “What are you doing here?”
❛ i wish it wasn’t true . ❜ –– from trilla
“Yeah, um.” They gently kicked up some of the dirt that coated the ground, tracing a pattern of anxiety into the earth. “Me too. Maybe in a better galaxy somewhere, this wouldn’t have happened, but, uh. But we’ve gotta play with the cards we’re dealt, huh?” They asked, albeit halfheartedly. Still, if she had to pick someone to go through this with, Trilla wasn’t a bad choice.
@cravked
// sabine’s look for the life day event //
not featured: bold purple eyeliner, white painted nails
@versios // Iden Versio
although most of her time on new republic business was spent with the comfort of inferno squad and those that she knew best, iden still kept in communication with several other members of the rebellion. she was good at what she did, after all, and the rebellion’s strength came from its ability to work together. she happened to be rather fond of sabine –– she thought that the young woman was fiercely capable of quite a bit, and had a rather creative brain when it came to looking for solutions. if she were going to be truly self-aware, then she would have realized part of the reason that she liked sabine so much was the fact that she reminded iden of herself when she had been younger. reckless, but only in the most brilliant way.
“good to see you too, wren,” she remarked with a wry smile in response to the holo-recording. she grabbed her transmitter to get the other on the line, waiting for her to pick up before she spoke again. “it’s good to hear from you again, wren. what part of the galaxy are you in these days?”
The steady hum of the transceiver broke into a crackle, and Sabine’s eyes fluttered open sleepily. They hadn’t meant to doze off in the cockpit (that was risky business), but it had kind of just happened. Luckily, her little R-series droid had kept the flight path relatively consistent, and she gave the droid a pat on its dome before adjusting the frequency to match that of the incoming transmission. Finally, out came the familiar voice of their friend. So it seemed she had received their message.
“Commander, I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me,” they joked in between yawns. How long had it been since she had eaten something? Or had a proper sleep cycle, for that matter? Ah, that was a problem for another rotation. She turned their attention back to coming up with an answer to the question they had been asked.
“You know me, I love nothing more than enjoying all of the luxuries the Outer Rim has to offer. I mean, it just doesn’t really get any better than the endless sandy wastes of Savareen or Tattooine, does it?” They pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, then glanced over their shoulder into the next room. It wasn’t like her to be distracted, but it seemed to be more and more commonplace over the last few days.
“Sorry, uh, just looking for the cat. Blue seems to always be getting into trouble these days.” Where could he be hiding this time? “But, er, how have things been on your end, Commander? Anything I can help with? I...I heard about Hosk.”
A heavy silence took its place on Sabine’s tongue then, until, with a deep sigh, they continued.
“If I’m being honest, commander, it’s not as easy as I imagined, this whole recovering-from-the-Empire thing.”
cravked // Trilla Suduri
the tension was written all over the stranger. trilla had been arrogant as an inquisitor, considered herself to be extremely talented at everything that they put their mind too –– there had been a degree of truth behind it, too. in the years that they had served, they had been regarded with a high degree. she’d been an extremely deadly tracker because of her ability to read and predict the behavior of other sentient beings, accompanied by her natural precognitive abilities that relied on the force. still, they would have had to be blind to miss the stranger’s sudden tension. even then, she wasn’t sure that she could have been oblivious. the lack of real response only solidified that.
didn’t quite sound like much of a bounty, but trilla’s interest in the matter did not run that deep, so long as it had nothing to do with them. “i can’t imagine a place like this has much information.” except this kind of place was also perfect for hiding, laying low, something that they already happened to know rather well, given it was something to do with the fact of why she was there in the first place. but she’d already given the stranger more honesty than she was owed, and did not feel obligated to share more.
“you can ask.” there was a beat of awkward silence after their words, as though she did not intend on answering sabine. “i prefer to have a bit of privacy. there aren’t usually a lot of talkative people around these parts,” she gestured to the remainder of the cantina. “you stick out in a multitude of ways.”
The response was just about what Sabine expected. A quiet life was hard to come by, especially when the Empire was still in control. Even now that most ex-Imperials and their sympathizers no longer held power, it was still difficult. There had been more than one occasion where they had to fight to escape the prison of recognition. The Mandalorian didn’t concern themself with trying to figure out what ghosts Trilla was running from; she had enough of her own.
But something about their last comment gnawed at Sabine, dug under their skin. Maybe she didn’t mean much by it, but then again, maybe she did. It felt pointed, a jab at how few of her kind were truly left. Each implication hung in the air between them, and it stung a bit more than she was comfortable with.
“Yeah.” They sighed. “I do. I guess it’s always been like that.”
Their mind wandered then, and they thought about the armor, the vibrant paint it carried in sand dunes and ice wastes alike. That metal that was now so precious to others. How they would have no one to pass it on to according to the Creed...
“I guess I never said thanks. For the help with the bike, and the ride.” She bit her lower lip as they passed the menu card to the stranger. They didn’t feel much like eating right now.
generally-scheming // Armitage Hux
If nothing else, Hux had to credit the photographer for so clearly capturing a moment he did not remember himself. The walk from the gala to Alton’s yacht was extremely fuzzy, but he’d hoped that — even inebriated — he’d had the decorum to keep his kriffing hands to himself until they were out of sight. Yet that was unmistakably Armitage Hux in the image, pulling a man into a yacht by his necktie. And that man was unmistakably Alton Kastle with his hand on Hux’s ass.
Hux knew better than to reach for the datapad. That didn’t stop his fingers from twitching when they stowed it out of sight. (She’d won this round.) No one who saw that image would have any doubt of what happened on Alton’s yacht afterwards. He narrowed his eyes. Their gown wasn’t so sheer that he could count out hidden armor or weapons. With a gaze every bit as sharp as the dagger up his sleeve, his eyes traced the skin above their neckline for vulnerable arteries. But that was only fantasy — he was not so keen to die today that he would take on a Mandalorian in hand-to-hand combat without backup. Especially not after he’d read Sabine Wren’s file.
“Yet you brought your concerns to me first. How courteous.” Hux knew as well as she did — she was ex-Imperial — that countless cutthroat officers would love to get their hands on any ammunition that could be used against him. Not to mention that connecting a New Republic reporter to a man who’d tortured Padme Amidala would kill Alton’s career. “What is it you want from me that you could not get from them?”
_
His eyes turned upon the image, and they smirked at his shift in tone. Like a glacier breaking into the ocean, he grew ever colder with the passing seconds. No doubt he wanted to react with some measure of calculated anger or violence, but he kept his composure all the same. The Mandalorian had to admit, given the brevity of the situation, that it was almost impressive.
“Hey, I’m a nice person, Hux. You ought to know this by now.”
They sipped the wine he’d ordered, looking at him over the rim of the glass the whole time. She took a breath before responding, took the conversation on their own time.
“I want you to owe me a favor.” They exaggerated the words, left them with weight unseen. “I won’t come calling today, or tomorrow, but I will come calling. And when I do, I just want to know that you’re willing to help. Nothing difficult, nothing incriminating. Just good old-fashioned reciprocity, one friend to another.”
Sabine folded their hands together in the space between them, leaning forward and never wavering from his steely gaze.
“What do you say, general?”
Their senses felt so dull yet so full of fire, and she couldn’t help but s m i l e at the heat running through her veins. They could take on the world if it was asked of them. She didn’t need the armor or the darksaber or anything else!! She was at the top of the world, swirling voices gilding themselves into a crown, flashing lights a mantle of pride. She couldn’t tell what was so funny about the party (only that it was!), and so laughter escaped from them like the bubbles in her latest beverage. They drifted through the temple, looking up at the carved stone in awe (...when she wasn’t looking down the end of a bottle.)
“The Jedi may have been kinda stuffy, but boy do they know architecture, huh?,” she sighed to the person closest, downing another shot in the process.
@chaotickylia
Artist. Madalorian. Weapons Master. Rebel. "My friends make the impossible possible." // RP account for galacticshq
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